


Thought I Lost You

by Ivy_Adair



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Cullen Positivity Week, Cullen Positivity Week 2015, Cullver, Drabble, Fluff and Angst, Inquisitor Carver Hawke, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4256439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivy_Adair/pseuds/Ivy_Adair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cullen almost loses Inquisitor Carver Hawke, he decides to make his feelings known. A short Cullen x Carver drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thought I Lost You

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> _This work has not been proofread or edited by anyone other than myself. I acknowledge and apologize for any errors still present._  
> 

“We’re through the first line, Commander! The Wardens are retreating.”  
  
“Keep pushing forward, men. We don’t stop until we’ve taken Adamant,” Cullen cried, raising his sword overhead.   
  
The soldiers cheered, spurred on as they continued their assault of the ancient Grey Warden fortress. Cullen pushed himself forward, always moving; if he stopped for a single moment, he found his eyes drifted off in the direction the Inquisitor had disappeared to. He couldn’t afford a moment of distraction, for his soldier’s sake. They needed him focused, not worried and not with his thoughts drifting to the final time he spoke to the Inquisitor.   
  
_“We’ll keep the main host of demons occupied for as long as we can.”_  
  
 _“I’ll be fine, just keep the men safe.”_  
  
 _“We’ll do what we have to, Inquisitor. Warden Stroud will guard your back and your sister is with our soldiers on the battlements. She’s assisting them until you arrive.”_  
  
 _“Maker damn it, Marian,” Carver huffed. “All right, I’ll fight my way up to the top and meet up with her. Maybe we can take the strain off by thinning their ranks a bit so the soldiers can get a foothold on the walls.”_  
  
 _Carver turned to leave and without thinking, Cullen’s arm shot across the gap between the two of them and gripped Carver’s forearm in a tight grip. The younger man started, his eyes flitting between Cullen’s hand and his face. Cullen spoke again, his words soft: “just, be safe…please.”_  
  
 _Carver swallowed and nodded slowly. “I will,” he replied, his voice thick and creaking out of his throat. “You as well.”_  
  
A roar from overhead pulled Cullen from his thoughts. There was a collective gasp as Corypheus’ archdemon began to circle overhead.  
  
“Andraste’s blood,” Cullen cursed. He whirled around to the men, “we have to break through, now.”  
  
With a renewed vigor, Cullen led his men and broke through the final Warden line. He didn’t stop to congratulate his soldiers, didn’t take a moment to catch his breath; as soon as it was clear, Cullen took off like a rabbit towards the main courtyard. His muscles screamed with protest, already exhausted from the siege, but he didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was reaching Carver. There was a crash, and suddenly the entire keep began to shake wildly. Cullen stumbled, losing his footing.   
  
“Commander!” a soldier called, “look!”  
  
Cullen looked up in time to see a battlement collapsing. From his vantage point he could see the figures of Carver, Stroud, Cassandra, Solas, Varric and Hawke attempting to outrun the damage. He gripped his sword tighter, watching the scene but unable to move. He saw Stroud fall and, oh Maker’s breath, Carver run back for him. Cullen hissed through his teeth, body shaking from strain. Then finally…he felt his heart fly into his throat; his belly bottom out and his veins fill with ice.   
  
“Carver!” he cried as the large, muscled frame of the Inquisitor went tumbling down into darkness. “No!”   
  
Even though it was too late, Cullen took off in a sprint. He shoved his way through dazed Inquisition soldiers and frightened Wardens, not caring who he trampled in his way. He made it to the edge of the destruction before he fell on his knees. His chest heaved against his armor as he struggled to breathe. His mind quickly began to throw out the trite platitudes that Carver may have survived, perhaps there was hope after all but none of them stuck. Cullen had come so close, very nearly told the younger man what he had meant to him but in the end, he’d always let the Inquisition business come first. Now, there was nothing but regret where the warmth of hope had once been.   
  
There was movement behind him, and despite his exhaustion, Cullen whirled around and drew his sword. Out of the dim, dusty air he watched a man limp towards him. Cullen recognized him in an instant.   
  
“Erimond, I believe?”  
  
. . .  
  
They were in the Courtyard now, Cullen and his soldiers. Even through the cold, dead weight of his heart in his chest, Cullen knew he had a job to do for the sake of the Inquisition and for the sake of Thedas. Warden Commander Clarel was dead and Cullen had somehow managed to find her second in the chaos that surrounded them. The man was attempting to explain the Clarel’s brilliant plan of enslaving demons to use in a war beneath the ground, but all Cullen’s mind could focus on was loss. The Inquisition would be crippled, losing both Carver and Cassandra. Cullen would also have to write a very uncomfortable letter to a man he’d been told was fighting slavers in Tevinter. He didn’t know whom to contact for Solas' next of kin, he had always been too elusive to mention any friends or family he'd leave behind. For Varric, there were far too many letters to write.   
  
He had begun to count them out in his head when suddenly, a rift opened up in the Courtyard two feet to his left. He started and unsheathed his sword with a metallic shriek that echoed off the stunned courtyard.   
  
“Be ready, men!” he cried.   
  
There was a rumble and a flash as three dark forms came tumbling out of the rift. Cullen raised his sword to strike down the demons, but paused as he heard familiar curses coming from the smallest of the demons.   
  
“Andraste’s _ass_ ,” the small figure groaned.   
  
The figures rose to their full heights, moaning and groaning. Cullen felt himself smile as he looked upon the tired and bedraggled faces of Cassandra, Varric and Solas. His gaze shifted back and forth between them and the rift.   
  
“Carver?” he murmured.   
  
He met Cassandra’s gaze. “He was right behind us,” she murmured, her eyes sliding back towards the rift.   
  
Several tense moments passed, accentuated by the constant thumping of his heart. The air around him was stiff, full of fear, doubt, and worries that he hardly had words enough to express. There was another rumble and he could only watch as a large, muscled frame carrying a smaller, lithe body emerged from the rift. Inquisitor Carver Hawke looked simultaneously like the best and worst thing Cullen had ever seen. His face was bloody, clothes covered with some unknown black substance and in his arms he carried his protesting sister. She thrashed against him, cursing him for not letting her fix her mistake. A second later, the rift behind them slammed shut. Stroud was nowhere to be seen.   
  
As much as Cullen knew he should focus on that, the only thought in his mind was ‘ _get to Carver_ ’. The younger man set his sister down and ran a hand through his grimy hair. Cullen crossed the small space between them, his hands finding their way on to Carver’s broad shoulders. The Inquisitor looked up to him, and without a single regard for their audience, Cullen pulled him close and pressed their lips together.   
  
Carver gasped and Cullen took the chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against Carver’s. He felt the other man’s body tense, and then relax as Carver wrapped his arms around Cullen’s middle, pulling him closer. Their lips slid against each other as Carver tilted his head to the side and drew Cullen in deeper and in that moment the only thing that mattered was the heat of Carver’s skin against his own and the feeling of Carver in his arms. They broke apart at last for air, but neither was willing to let go of the other. They pressed their foreheads together and Cullen tried to steady the breath in his chest and the shake in his limbs.   
  
“Thought I lost you,” Cullen murmured.   
  
Carver swallowed, his cheeks turning pink even through the seventeen layers of dirt, blood and sweat. “Never lose me,” he whispered. 

**Author's Note:**

> It's rarepair day during Cullen Week. So, have some Cullen x Carver Hawke. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed, thanks for reading. 
> 
> This work will be cross posted on my [tumblr](http://dear-miss-adair.tumblr.com/).


End file.
